Songs of the Soul
by Koshka
Summary: When Evil steals the music from a mans soul, can the angels help him find it again?


Songs of the Soul   
  


This world is not a conclusion 

A sequel stands beyond 

Invisible, as music, 

But positive, as sound. 

-- Emily Dickinson   
  


It was a beautifully warm day, the sun shone brightly, brightening the golds, oranges, reds, and greens of autumn in every tree and bush, and highlighting the reddish brown hair of a woman as she drank in the beauty of this day, one of many that were surely to fill the season. Playfully, she scooped up a bundle of leaves in her arms, and tossed them high into the air, watching them spin downwards all around her, and delighting in the sound of leaves crunching under her bare feet as she strolled along. 

"Monica!" a voice called from behind her. 

She turned just in time to be startled by an armful of leaves tossed right at her. Turnabout being fair play, she scooped up some of those same leaves, and dropped them right on top of Andrew's head. 

Tess shifted a bit in her spot on the cement border of a flower bed, the flowers having been cleaned out sometime earlier. She, too, was enjoying the day, in her own way: watching her two charges enjoy the day. She'd let them enjoy the moment. They had an assignment waiting for them, but the time wasn't right just yet. 

"Come on, Tess!" Monica called. 

Tess surrendered, toying with an autumn leaf as she walked over to where Monica and Andrew had found a spot to sit and rest for a moment. No sooner had she settled down beside them, then the two of them dropped bundles of leaves over her head. 

Andrew chuckled quietly to himself at Tess's stern look, and soon Tess was smiling along with them.   
  


Monica looked up as a man, walking with his dog, walked by the three of them, not noticing them, but enjoying the sound of the leaves crunching underfoot. "How can he see where he's going with glasses that dark?" She asked. 

"He can't, Monica." Andrew said. "That's a guide dog. The man's blind." He frowned. He knew something about this man, but he couldn't put his finger on it. 

"He's our assignment." Tess said. 

"He seems to be doing quite well." Monica said. 

"That's today, Miss Wings. Only God knows what will happen in the future." 

Their assignment had disappeared around a corner, and they heard the jingle of a bell as a door was opened. 

"Well, Mr. Mellor! Is it time for groceries again?" 

"It is indeed, Madame. I have my list right here." he said, pulling a crumpled list out of a pocket. 

"Madame!" the grocer said, waiving her hand to dismiss the flattery as she took his list, "I told you to just call me Ruthie." 

"And you can just call me Jim--I won't make you try to say James William Ezra Thyson Mellor the Third, much as I do enjoy hearing people try it!" He chuckled, and Ruthie chuckled along with him. 

"With a name that long, he must be pretty important." Monica said. 

"Well, he is pretty important to God." Tess said. "However, he's just an average man, Baby. He's worked hard, and done pretty well. He lost his sight early in life, and he's been living from check to check ever since." 

"So we're here to give him a little encouragement?" 

"More than that, Baby. Much more than that."   
  


Tess stood outside a modest little one bedroom home in the warm autumn sunshine with her two Angel charges. Monica was waiting patiently, sitting on the steps of the home, while Tess stood at the other end of the sidewalk, trying to get her Angel Boy to take one step up that sidewalk. Andrew, for his part, stood there, arms folded, frowning with seriously furrowed eyebrows, and not budging one inch. 

"I don't know, Tess. I just do **not** want to go into that house." 

"I don't want to push you into that house, and neither does God, but you need to go into that house, Baby." 

"I just **can't**, Tess." 

"Jim's not even in there right now. It's not Jim, is it?" 

"I...don't know. I just cannot go in there." 

Tess slipped a supportive arm around his shoulders, and could feel the tenseness of those muscles. She gently gave a squeeze as she said: "Could you at least come up onto the porch?" 

Andrew frowned, then, very slowly, began making his way to the porch, and up the few stairs. 

"That wasn't so hard now, was it, Baby?" she said, giving him a broad grin. 

Monica had the door open, and was waiting for Tess. 

"You going to be okay out here, Angel Boy?" 

Andrew nodded, still frowning, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He turned his back on the house, and faced the brilliant autumn leaves drifting lazily to the ground from the trees by the street. He shivered slightly in the warmth of the autumn sun.   
  


"Oh look, Tess. A piano!" Monica said, gently caressing the curve of the baby grand piano. "I just love beautiful music." She lightly touched the keys. "Does Jim play the piano?" 

"He not only plays, he composes, Baby." 

"What does he write?" 

Tess slipped onto the piano bench beside Monica. "Whatever's in his heart, and he does it best when he's close to nature, which is why he has his piano by the windows. He may not see what's beyond those windows, but he can smell it, feel it, touch it, and hear it...for a while." 

"For a while?" Monica asked. "What's going to happen to him?" 

Tess held her hand up to halt the endless questions. "A door's going to close for him, Baby, but that doesn't mean there isn't plenty more music left to write." 

The front door opened, and Jim Mellor paused in the doorway. He frowned, furrowed his brows, and in an almost furious tone said, under his breath: "Get behind me! You're not welcome here!", and marched into his home. 

"I think I hear that door closing right about now." Tess said, with a meaningful look at Monica.   
  


Jim sat down at the piano, closed his eyes a moment, inhaled deeply, then, feeling the warmth of the sunshine warming him, let out the breath slowly. He smiled to himself, placed his hands on the keyboard, and the piano began to sing at his touch. 

"He's quite a musician, Tess." Monica said, feeling the soothing influence of his music. 

"He does have quite a gift." Tess said. 

"Including," Andrew said, coming over to stand beside his companions at the piano, "an ability to cast off evil. I could have done it, but wasn't being allowed to. I didn't understand why, till Jim Mellor came home." 

"He is a gifted man. There aren't many Humans in this world who can sense the presence of evil, let alone who have learned to cast it out." Tess said. 

"Natalia Rubler." Monica said. 

"Jim's learned more in putting off evil than Natalia," Tess agreed, "and he's got a strong soul, but even so, Baby, he can't keep fighting evil on his own." 

"No one is ever alone, Tess." Andrew said, his expression one of puzzlement that Tess had even suggested that Jim was alone in his battle with evil. 

"Oh, he's not alone, Babies, not ever. And that's why God's sent angels to be at his side at this time in his life." She turned her attention back to the man and his music. "That music is going to be cut off rather abruptly." She pursed her lips. 

Both Monica and Andrew caught each others eyes, and they knew Tess had said all she was going to say for the moment.   
  


The doorbell rang early the next morning, a couple times, but Jim Mellor was once again sitting at his piano, so engrossed in his music, that he hadn't heard it. At the third ring of the bell, Jim's seeing eye dog got up and nudged her wet nose up against a hand, and gently gripped the hand in her mouth. 

Jim playfully rubbed the dog's head, and continued with his composition. 

Again, the german shepherd nudged the hand, gripping it once again just as gently, but this time tugging on it. 

"Shtow etah, Aungell?" he asked her, standing up. 

On the porch, Monica was about to give up. 

"Ring it one more time, Baby." Tess urged. She had a distinct feeling that something wasn't right here, and couldn't get the feeling of that metaphorical closed door out of her mind. 

Monica did as she was bid, and rang the bell one more time, hoping it wouldn't go unanswered. She smiled moments later as she caught the sound of the toenails of four furry feet tapping on a hard floor, and the voice of Jim Mellor, finishing up a conversation with his dog. 

"Who is it?" he called, just about to the door. 

"It's Monica. I saw your ad in the paper that you needed a housekeeper." 

"Ah, yes. Monica, is it?" he said, opening that door. "How good are you at keeping house?" 

"I like a place to feel like a bit of Heaven when I'm finished." The Irish lilt in her voice sounded like a bit of Heaven. 

Jim nodded. "You sound like just the person I'm looking for. Come on in. Excuse the darkness. I don't normally need light. I'm sure there's got to be some candles around here somewhere. My sister use to keep a few around here in case of emergency. Come on, Aungell, let's show Monica the house." 

Monica spotted a switch, just a couple steps from the door, flicked it to the on position, and light filled the room. 

Jim paused, and turned. He'd felt the warmth of the light the moment it'd turned on. Being blind, his other four senses were exceptionally sharp, but still... 

"I haven't paid a power bill in ages!" he said. "What use does a blind man have for light?" 

"Oh, you'd be surprised." she said, her smile evident in her voice. God had sent Jim Mellor an angel to bring light into his darkness, and great things were often brought to pass by small and simple means. 

'On into the darkness!' she thought, and followed Jim into the far reaches of his small home. She flicked on lights as they were needed, and watched Jim Mellor shake his head as he felt the warmth from each light fixture. 

"No, Baby. Not into the darkness, but towards the light." Tess said, walking along beside Monica just a few steps behind their assignment. "Jim's had plenty of darkness in his life, and it's going to get darker, much darker, before he's ready to see the light. You need to keep him playing his music as long as you can, Baby, because, when he stops playing, doors are going to close and things will only be darker." 

"And this is the..." Jim was saying. 

"How am I to do that, Tess?" Monica asked, and turned, but Tess had already gone.   
  


The day was new, and Monica was beginning her task of cleaning Jim Mellor's house bright and early. She'd been cleaning for about an hour when she heard strains of Jim's music drifting through the hallway to her. She couldn't resist following it to it's source, peeking into the main room, then quietly entering the room, trying not to disturb him, and cleaning at the farthest corner she could be, and still be in the same room. 

She turned as she caught sight of two other figures in the room. Tess, dressed in a lovely, sparkling black evening gown, was sitting on the end of a black leather couch, and Andrew, in sand colored pants, beige shirt, and a long dress jacket matching his pants in color, sat in the matching overstuffed black leather chair, his arms stretched out along the arms of the chair. All three were clearly enjoying the music, and Monica's dusting job was suffering from the inattention. 

Several minutes later, and a couple musical pieces later, Monica had worked her way over to beside Tess, aimlessly dusting the back of the couch. 

Jim let his hands drop to the keyboard, as if suddenly worn out. 

"You think I hadn't noticed you?" he asked. 

Tess turned an impressed look to Monica. 

"Oh, don't stop!" Monica said. "Your music is so lovely!" 

He rested his hands on his legs. "I appreciate the compliment, but I've seem to run up against a wall, my dear." He shook his head. "A composer doesn't get paid when he keeps running into walls, and has nothing for which to perform, thereby earning no money. Aungell!" He called his companion in the same breath, and stood up. 

The german shepherd was by her master's side instantly. 

Jim found the stiff bar that Aungell wore, and the dog guided him to the door. "I'm going for a walk, Monica." 

She could only watch as he closed the front door behind him.   
  


Andrew, standing at the end of the walk to the home, hands stuffed in pockets, looked up as Jim came out onto the porch, scowled, and suddenly got very furious. 

"You're not welcome here!! Be gone!!!" 

Andrew's own brows were furrowed as he turned his gaze to the dark figures backing away from the man on the porch. They knew this particular human had power, which made him all the more an appealing soul to entice and harass. But they also knew he used the power he had. The eyes of one of those dark beings caught Andrew's for a moment. 

'Vince!' Andrew recognized him just as a warm, wet nose rubbed a bare spot on his wrist, causing him to look down. 

"Come on, Aungell. Let's not waste this good weather." Jim urged, not aware of Andrew's presence. 

Andrew looked back at the porch. The dark figures were gone, then turned his attention back down the sidewalk, following his human charge.   
  
  
  


"Tess, I wish there were something I could do, other than just clean his house." Monica said. She picked up a freshly fallen autumn leaf, and twirled it absently between her fingers. 

"You're doing plenty, Baby. Sometimes, all that's required of an Angel is presence." 

Monica frowned, not understanding. 

"When angels of God are nearby, evil cannot triumph, Baby. Light casts off all darkness." Tess looked up, feeling the coolness of the sun being covered over with clouds. "It's a good thing I brought an umbrella." she said, just as an umbrella appeared in her hand. 

"If it's going to rain, why don't we just leave, Tess?" 

"Because, Miss Wings, this place needs angels." 

"Got room under that umbrella for another angel?" 

"Irene!" Monica said. 

"Right here, Baby." Tess said, extending her arm opposite Monica to embrace Irene as she settled down on the cool cement planter box edge. 

"Do you know why you're here?" Monica asked, leaning around Tess to direct her question at the almond eyed Angel of Death. 

Tess eyed Monica at her daring question. 

"I was told only that I'd be needed." Irene replied. 

"You're always welcome, Baby." Tess said, giving a friendly hug, as white snowflakes began drifting downwards. 

"Tess! It's snowing!" Monica exclaimed, unable to resist smiling, catching snowflakes in her outstretched hand. 

Tess looked heavenward, a bit exasperated. 'Give me patience with this Angel Baby. I know she'll see what's going on here soon enough, but it's not a situation to inspire patience!' She fingered some of the snow fallen on her knee. "God is laying a blanket of calm in this place." she said as bigger snowflakes began to fall. "And, Babies, we're going to need it!" 

Aungell paused before entering the park, shook snow off her back, and looked imploringly at the three angels. 

"Aungell! Keep moving! You're going to get a cold if we keep stopping and standing in this snow! Move it!" his frustration was evident in his voice, plus, something just didn't feel right. 

Behind him, Andrew ducked his head momentarily with determination. Though Jim didn't know what was ahead, Andrew could almost feel Vince ahead, and he rubbed at an ache in his arm. 

"Tess!" Monica got her attention with a hushed, intense whisper. 

Evil had gathered at the other end of the park, and the skies were growing dark and menacing. 

Andrew rounded the corner as Tess stood up, leaving the umbrella in Monica's care. 

"Are you ready, Angel Boy?" 

"He's got lots of help." Carl said, appearing beside her, along with Irene, Sam, Raphael, and Michaela. 

"I like to play in the snow." Michaela said with a shrug. "Besides," she said, more serious now, "I like to put evil in it's place." she said, pushing her sleeves up. 

The skies rumbled, and lightening crackled. 

'Lightning? In a snow storm?' Monica wondered. 

"Evil can manipulate the elements, too, Monica." 

Monica looked up at the angel in front of her, who extended a hand to her. She took the hand of the Archangel, remembering the strength of his grip. "It's been a long time, Ethan. But are you sure you need me here?" 

"We need all the angels we can get. There's power in numbers. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's about to get really busy." He turned, and, as he did so, lightening connected one cloud to another, then another, and another. But as powerful and threatening as the lightening was, even more brilliant was the light that surrounded Ethan at almost the same instant, the light of God's love.   
  


Jim paused. He could feel it. There was a spirit about the place, and he knew what it was. "Leave me alone! Your influence isn't wanted!!" He could feel the evil here, and his shoulders slumped. Aungell growled at the dark figures ahead of her. 

"Jim? What is it?" Monica called, coming up to him. Gods love glowed about her, too, though, Jim being blind, he couldn't see it. 'I know, but he can see evil.' Monica thought in the slight moment she paused in her approach. 

Jim struggled to straighten up as Monica came to him, and she put an arm around his shoulders. She prayed that he could feel that love from Heaven coming thru her. 

"Monica. What are you doing here?" 

"I was out for a walk, and I thought I'd cut through the park on my way home. I saw you here, and you looked like you could use a friendly soul." 

He smiled at her choice of words. "It feels as if night has come on a bit early tonight." 

Monica glanced up at the skies. "Yes, the clouds have come in rather thickly. It looks like winter has come to stay." 

"This is no ordinary snow storm, Monica. I can feel it." 

She smiled. 'Now.' the impression touched her soul. "You're right, Jim. This is no ordinary snow storm. Right here and now, good and evil are in a battle for your soul." The glow that surrounded her surrounded him now, too. "I'm an Angel sent by God. He loves you, and He is with you right now. Can you feel His love?" 

"I...feel warm." 

Monica smiled. "Yes. A warmth deeper than any earthly warmth. Jim, God sent not only me, but He sent many other angels to protect you at this moment. Right now, they are fighting for your soul. You're a valiant soul, Jim, and evil wants to win you over, by any means, but fear not, God will not let evil win. Hold on to that love from God that you feel so strongly now, and never let go. Never, ever let go!" 

Monica looked up, and saw Irene turn. Following the other angel's gaze, she saw a bedraggled man, hunched over and shivering, hugging himself as he walked on, into the park, through the furious snow and howling winds that Vince and his ilk had stirred up, completely unaware of what he was walking into. 'No!' she plead silently. 

Irene echoed that plea, and took several steps forward just a lightening bolt struck out, striking the man in the chest. He dropped instantly as evil laughed. 

"That's what will happen to that puny human, little angels!!" Vince said, voice echoing as if from great heights, laughing. It had been so easy. 

Ethan, standing beside Michaela, gritted his teeth, determination setting in all the more strongly. 

Irene, who'd vanished a few steps from her earlier point, reappeared seconds later, beside the fallen man, evil still enjoying what it'd done. 

"One less little angel!!" Vince laughed, taunting. 

Irene looked back over her shoulder, glaring at him. "I'll be back!", as Michaela raised a hand as if directing Vince and his legions to halt. 

In a voice more powerful than anyone would have expected, Michaela ordered: "Be silent!!" 

Tess raised her brows. She knew this Archangel of Birth was new to the job of Archangel, but she also knew her Angel Baby could be quite stubborn when necessary. 

Irene, attention now back to her assignment, removed the man's threadbare hat. "Pete. It's time to go Home." She lovingly touched the grimy, matted hair. 

Pete rolled over, and pushed himself up off the snowy ground. He looked over at Irene as she stood up. "Well. You're more beautiful than I thought the Angel of Death would be." He stood before her, wiping his hands off on warm clothing suitable to the weather, all cleaned up, shaven, clean hair combed back neatly. 

Irene returned his smile. "Thank you." She nodded back the way he'd come, and took his arm. "If you think I'm beautiful..."   
  
  
  


Jim had crouched down at the sound of the thunder striking out, and Monica was crouched down beside him, an arm protectively over his shoulders. 

"Do you know the Christmas carol O Holy Night?" 

In response, he started humming quietly to himself: "Oh Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining..." then started singing it, in his awkward way, not given to much singing. Next, Tess picked up the refrain, then Michaela. 

Soon, Monica began reciting the words as the others sang the phrase. 

Jim struggled to stand up, Aungell encouraged him with a nuzzle, and Monica, Irene on Jim's other side, helped him to his feet. 

"Keep it up." Ethan encouraged, as he stepped forward, humming another Christmas tune to himself. Somewhere in the distance he heard church bells playing the song he was humming: I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. 

One more step, and he looked Vince in the eyes. "God is not dead nor doth He sleep! In the name of the Lord and Savior of this world, get thee hence and pester this man no more!!" With that proclamation and command, an intense presence manifesting itself in his eyes, the light of God's love around him grew brighter. 

The Light was so bright, that, for a moment, Jim saw, or thought he saw, the hosts of angels around and between him and evil incarnate. He gasped. "It's a miracle!" he whispered. Just as quickly, the sight faded, and all was dark again. 

With that increasing Light that surrounded both Ethan and Michaela now, the clouds were parting, and evil howled; literally--knowing it couldn't be where such authority existed. Howling, evil struck out in frustration. Two of the most powerful bolts of lightening shot out from the center of the cloud mass, striking Ethan and Jim. Both collapsed to the ground as evil fled. 

Andrew appeared instantly beside Jim, catching him as he fell, unconscious. 

Ethan, closest to Vince and his dominions, moaned, but managed a smile for Michaela and Tess. "You can't kill an angel." he said, wincing. 

"Especially not an Archangel named Ethan." Tess retorted. She looked up to where evil had been. "Go on, you two. The Healer's waiting." 

"Wouldn't want to keep Him waiting." he said moments before he and Michaela vanished from the sight of angels, but never from the site of God. 

Tess made her way back to Andrew and Monica, as Irene gently scooped up Jim's head, keeping it just above the snow. 

"He's not dead, Tess. It's not his time." Andrew said. "If it hadn't been for Ethan..." 

"Well, we'd better get him to a hospital, Angel Boy. This man needs some medical attention." 

With that, she turned away, humming to herself to the tune of Amazing Grace.   
  


"Well, Tess, I guess our assignment here's over." Monica said, turning from the window of the room in the Intensive Care Unit where Jim Mellor lay in a hospital bed, his condition being continually monitored by every conceivable mechanical unit. "Jim's on his way to recovery, and he's in good hands." 

"You think our assignment's over, do you, Miss Wings?" Tess said, looking at her with raised brows. She turned and walked on ahead, saying: "It's only just begun, Baby. Only just begun." 

"She's right, Monica." Andrew said with a slight nod to the left. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed. 

'Why am I always the last to know?' Monica wondered silently as she caught up with Andrew at the turn in the hall.   
  


"He's shutting himself off, Miss Wings." Tess said, frowning as she watched Jim Mellor sitting slumped in the chair in his hospital room. 

Three and a half weeks had passed since either angel had last been here--3½ weeks which had seemed like an eternity to Monica. She'd known then that they were leaving their assignment in the middle, and she never liked to leave anything hanging. 

"Speaking of hanging..." 

Monica looked up and saw Andrew on a ladder, stringing some festive Christmas garlands along the ceiling above the nurses station. 

"Could you hand me that staple gun?" he asked, catching Monica's eyes for a moment, reading the impatience, eagerness, and child-like trust in those eyes. "Jim's never been alone, Monica." he said, stepping down a step and taking the staple gun from her half raised hand. "Someone's always been with him." He nodded back towards the window into Jim Mellor's room, and moved back up the ladder as Monica turned back to the window. 

"There's no medical reason to keep him in the hospital, but they can't send him home either." Tess said. 

Monica hadn't heard what Tess had just said, hearing only the strong tenor voice, somewhat restrained in it's song, filling the room. "Ethan!" she said, recognizing him the moment he appeared. 

Ethan sat down on the bed, having finished his hymn. 

"Jim didn't even hear Ethan!" Monica observed. 

"That lightening bolt left him deaf, Baby. Ever since then, he's been in this hospital, unable or unwilling to move on. He won't let anyone see him." 

"Anyone except Ethan." Andrew added, now standing beside his friends. 

Having taken one of Jim's hands, Ethan placed it against his throat. "Jim. Listen to me. Feel my voice." 

"Jim hasn't written any music for nearly a year." Tess said. "That's the way he sings." She paused, thinking, and listening to a Source greater than her own. "He feels that, since he's deaf, he can't compose, so he refuses to compose." 

"He refuses to sing!" Monica said. 

Tess nodded. "Ethan is going to help him learn to sing again by first feeling the voice in the throat, then learning to feel sign language in the palm." 

"How is that going to help him with his music?" Monica asked. 

"If he can feel a human voice in the throat, he can feel the music in the piano, in the walls, and in the floor. But most importantly, Baby, he needs to feel music in his soul again." 

Monica nodded subtly to herself, knowing that Ethan was the perfect angel for the job. What she didn't understand was what she was doing here, and feeling like the third wheel on a bike. She turned to ask Tess what she was to do, and found that Tess had left. Next, she turned to ask Andrew, and discovered that he'd left as well, nor was he up the ladder, fastening the Christmas garlands to the ceiling. 

A warm, wet nose nuzzled her hand, and she looked down at a german shepard as it woofed quietly at her. 

"Aungell! I don't suppose you have any idea why I'm here?" she asked, giving the animal an affectionate rub on the head. 

In reply, Aungell gently took Monica's hand in her mouth and pulled her to the door of Jim Mellor's room.   
  
  
  


Jim jumped when Aungell rubbed up against him. His hand not yet removed from Ethan's voice box, he felt what Ethan said next. 

"Monica's here to teach you sign language, and she's brought Aungell with her." His dark, almost black eyes sparkled at the other angel in the room. 

"There's only one Monica I know, who'd know Aungell, and she's a maid." Jim said, disheveling his guide dog's fur, happy to have her nearby again. 

Ethan took Jim's hand, and this time placed it against his lips. "Monica is a woman of many talents." 

Jim frowned, then understanding slowly lifted his brow. 

Ethan returned Jim's hand to the head of the dog, and got up. "He's doing quite well, Monica. He's starting to believe in himself, but he's got a long way to go before he'll even be aware of the music that's trying to reach him." 

"That's why I thought the Archangel of Music was sent here." 

"Only God knows when I'll be most needed here. I'll leave the..." he paused only slightly, moving his gaze from Jim, where it had been, to Aungell, the german shepard guide dog, "...three of you alone." 

A question had just begun to form itself in Monica's thoughts, but the moment she turned to ask, Ethan had gone. Dismissing the question, she went over to Jim, took his hand, and very slowly spelled out in his palm, the name of his guide dog, then placed the hand on the dog's shoulder. Again she repeated the name, and the hand on the dog's shoulder. 

Andrew appeared beside Tess, standing by the window. 

Tess could tell, without turning to her Angel Boy, that the other shoe was about to drop. 'Haven't I picked up enough shoes already?' she quietly asked herself with a sigh of what-now-? 

"I hope she can get through to him soon." Andrew said, a slight frown creasing his brows.   
  


After the same pattern of spelling out the names of things in the palm of his hand, Jim had begun to recognize the names. He patted the table and spelled table for Monica, though he didn't do it fast and with a few falters. He sat down and spelled c-h-a-i-r to himself. Rubbing Aungell's fur, he spoke aloud: "Dog?" 

Monica began spelling the dogs name again, but Jim pulled his hand away and shook his head. 

"Dog? D-o-g." 

She smiled and spelled it for him. 

Tess, dressed in the typical white hospital worker's uniform and carrying a dinner tray, came into the room and announced that visiting hours were over. 

"But, Tess, we've only just started." Monica said. 

"I know, Baby, and time's really short, but Jim Mellor's human. He needs his rest. I'll give you enough time to go over the alphabet, but after that, I'm going to have to call it quits." 

"How am I going to teach him the alphabet? There's no object for the alphabet." 

Tess set the tray down. "I'd suggest you start with A for Apple." she said, and, taking Monica's hand, placed the shiny red fruit firmly in her grip.   
  


"Baby, I came back to get your tray." Tess said, walking into Jim Mellor's room with the bearing of a woman who can do anything she pleases. 

"He can't hear you, Tess." Monica reminded her, turning back to watching her charge. 

"I know that, Miss Wings, but I also know he doesn't need to see or hear me to know I'm here." She nodded in Jim's direction as he returned to what he was doing. It was then that she noticed what exactly he was doing, and frowned. 

"Baby," she said, this time speaking to Monica, "he hasn't eaten a single bite of his food." 

Monica shrugged aside the reprimanding complaint in Tess's voice, speaking hurriedly. "But, Tess, look what he's doing!" 

"I can see what he's doing, Miss Wings, he's making a mess!" 

"What difference is a little mess when he's saying: B... beans, C...carrots, D...drink... ? And look how happy he is!" she said, unable to keep the broad grin of success off her face, in spite of the totally opposite expression Tess wore, which Monica had barely noticed. 

"Well, you've certainly done a good job. I bet he's lost at least 8 pounds this last week, and he didn't have much to spare in the first place." She noticed that Monica's cheerful disposition remained, so she resigned herself to not press the matter further. "Get him to eat some of his food, Baby, before it gets any colder; if that food isn't already stone cold." she grumbled on the way out of the room. 

Andrew appeared beside Monica, who'd still not moved from her spot of observation. "Five more days, and it'll be Christmas Eve. It should be a season of joy, but, regardless of what joy he's experiencing right now, Monica, it won't remain with him much longer." He looked up from Jim, and Monica's gaze followed his. 

In a corner of the room, as far as he could possibly get, stood Vince. It had only been a month since Ethan had commanded the dark angel of evil to leave, and now Vince was back.   
  


Monica got off the hospital elevator on Jim's floor, and went straight to his room. She'd left reluctantly the previous day when Tess had marched in, declaring that visiting hours were over. "He's back." she'd whispered aside to Tess on the way out. 

"Oh, I know Vince is back, Baby." Tess had said, giving her Angel Girl a meaningful frown. "I suggest you get ready for what's about to happen." 

"What's about to happen, Tess?" she'd asked, but Tess had already gone. 

Today, that same feeling was still lingering around Monica as she opened the door into Jim's room, and found the bed neatly made, and no sign of personal items. She hurried out the door and ran to the nurses station, dodging around an empty breakfast cart. 

"Tess, where's Jim?" 

Tess set down her clipboard. "They released him about 9:00, Baby." 

"They released him??" she was astounded at that possibility. 

"They sent him home. Now, he'll be having a nurse checking in on him twice a day, but if you ask me, he needs more than a nurse." With that said, Tess gave Monica a look that said: 'You know what you need to do, Angel Girl.' 

"What day is it, Tess?" 

Tess, indignant at Monica not getting her meaning, asked: "What day is it? It's Tuesday." 

"No, no. Not the day. The date." 

"The 21st of December. But what does that have to do with anything?" she responded, just as Monica whirled and ran to the elevator. 

"Something Andrew said." Monica called down the hall as the elevator doors closed after her. 

Four days till Christmas Eve... She wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but she had a feeling.   
  


Andrew met Monica outside Jim Mellor's home. He was leaning on his snow shovel, having just shoveled off 5½ inches off the sidewalks. The snow was well past his knees. 

"You're early, aren't you?" she asked him, seeing Jim, well enough physically anyway, sitting on a chair on his porch. 

"Sometimes all that's required of an Angel is presence." he replied. "But I don't think presence will be enough to keep Vince away." 

At the side of the house, Vince was rolling a large snowball. 

"Andrew!" Jim called, "Did you get the sidewalks all shoveled?" 

Andrew put on a smile and headed towards the house. "Every last square inch." he said when he took a seat beside Jim, and spelled it out in the palm of his hand. "Monica's here to see you." 

"Monica. You know Andrew? You know, he's lived down the street all this time, and I never knew that he knew sign language." 

"Andrew's a man of many talents. You've learned a lot since we talked yesterday." 

Jim smiled as he caught the last word, literally, in the palm of his hand. "He's taught me a lot since he offered to shovel my sidewalk." 

"We only have four days." Andrew said to Monica with a slight nod, not bothering to spell it out in sign language. 

"What's going to happen on Christmas Eve?" she asked. 

In response, Andrew looked up at Vince, who looked back with a smirk. 

"You'd better listen to Angel Boy, Miss Wings." Vince mocked. 

"You know, suddenly I can't stand it out here anymore." Jim said, and pushed himself up. "How would you two like a cup of hot chocolate? I find it's the best thing after a cold day outside." 

Andrew and Monica followed Jim Mellor inside, while Aungell came after, growling under her breath at Vince.   
  


The sun had set not much more than 9½ hours ago, 3 days after Andrew had first shoveled off Jim's sidewalks, when Tess appeared at the arm of the couch where Monica sat, reading a book. 

"What do you think you're doing, Miss Wings, and where's your assignment?" She wore an expression that left no doubt that her Angel Baby should be doing something else, and something specific besides. 

"He's gone to bed, Tess." Monica explained matter-of-factly. 

"When did he go to bed?" Tess asked, trying to be patient, taking a seat beside Monica, all the time knowing there wasn't a minute to be wasted. "Do you have any idea what day it is?" 

"December 23rd." 

"It's December 24th." Andrew said, coming into the room, one hand stuffed into the pants pocket of his beige suit. His brow furrowed and he frowned, an Angel of Death bearing not so welcome news. "It's 2:43 am, he's not in his bed, and hasn't been for quite some time." 

"Where is he? Why haven't I heard anything?" Monica asked, of both of them, more questions coming on the tail of the others. 

Andrew nodded down the hall, moving in that direction as he said: "He's in the bathroom..." he vanished, reappearing with Monica and Tess, outside the bathroom door. "...and so is Vince." His frown was deeper now. "Tess, why did it have to come to this?" 

"Jim is a desperate man, Andrew. He's never been one to do anything part way. With him, it's all or nothing. He's learned to live with his blindness, baby, but when he lost his hearing, too, Vince found a foothold and has been using that to his advantage ever since." 

"I don't understand, Tess." Monica said. 

Tess turned just a bit to face her Angel Baby. "Jim let hopelessness creep in, Baby. He tried for awhile to learn the things he'd need to know to adapt to this new way of living, but the moment he was alone, Vince used that grip he had on Jim's hopelessness, and twisted it into the most dark..." 

Andrew drew a sharp breath as full knowledge of what was about to happen flooded into his soul, and he felt God's love glow about him, warming him in spite of the cold darkness of revulsion for what Vince was doing here. That warmth was just penetrating him to his core when a sudden thunk resounded from the other side of the bathroom door. 

Carl was cradling Jim Mellor in his arms and gently laying him on the floor when Instantly, Andrew appeared inside the bathroom. It was hard to dismiss the bloody mess in the sink, and now gushing out on the floor, staining Carl's brilliant white suit, a mess that didn't dim God's love glowing about Carl as well. 

"God's got a miracle for Jim Mellor, Andrew. We can take care of that part here, but you need to go with Jim." 

Andrew watched for a moment as Irene, settling calmly into the mess on the floor, cradled Jim's head in her lap, stroking his brow as Carl took Jim's wrists in his hands. 

Andrew looked up at the dark figure of Vince standing by the sink, who was grinning, thoroughly enjoying himself. 

"You'd better be gone when I get back!" he said to the dark angel of Evil. 

"Oh, he will be." Ethan said, a mischievous glint in his own eyes. 

Andrew closed his eyes a moment, a silent prayer in his heart, then gave a quiet shiver as God's love pushed evil away from His Angel of Death, so Andrew could do what needed to be done. 

Andrew squatted down, looked at that pale, pale face, and smiled. "Jim." 

He took another breath and let it out slowly. 

"My name's Andrew." He took Jim's fingers, and felt the spirit of the man grip his hand tightly. 

Returning the grip with a tenacious firmness, Andrew pulled with a surprising gentleness, as if waiting for permission. Getting Jim Mellor settled on his own two feet, he felt something, a change coming over his charge. He looked at Jim, and, releasing his grip on Jim's hand, Andrew's brow furrowed with a slight puzzlement. This wasn't going to be a typical 'bring the soul Home' assignment. 

Jim's hands had flown to his face, covering his eyes, as a bright light flooded over him. Now, slowly, he pulled his hands away. He could see! To be sure, all he could see was a brilliantly white light, but he could see! And hear! There was this faint sound...Music. It's welcoming notes beckoned him to come. 

He stepped towards that light and music, unaware of the Angel that stood beside him, walking with him.   
  


Andrew stopped and waited as Jim took the last few steps out of the bright tunnel of Light. 

There was a reverent stillness in the lush green, manicured garden that Jim found himself in. He relished in the sound and the sight of it, turning so as to not miss a single thing, and he didn't miss the tall, dark haired man standing with hands stuffed in his pockets when he'd made a full circle. 

"My name's Andrew." His tone shifted from the usual one he used to introduce himself. "I was sent to bring you Home." 

"Home? You're an angel? Is that where we are now?" 

Andrew smiled. So many questions, just like another angel he knew. 

"Yes, I'm an Angel. As for where we are..." he looked slowly from his left, around to his right, absorbing the beauty of this place. "We're somewhere between Heaven and the world." 

Jim caught the sound of the music again, and moved on, hardly hearing what Andrew had to say. 

Andrew sighed. 'Jim,' he thought to himself, 'usually this is one of the places where the recently deceased and their accompanying Angel of Death go when the deceased need some time of adjustment. You, however...' he paused before continuing his thought, and going after his charge, '...aren't suppose to be here yet.' He sighed to himself and disappeared into the lush green garden.   
  


Jim was sitting at the edge of a clearing when Andrew found him. In the clearing, almost at the center, was a grand piano, Ethan at the keyboard playing to his hearts content, leaving Jim Mellor enraptured. There were any number of musical instruments Ethan could have chosen to play, but he'd chosen a piano, the one instrument that Jim was fluent in. 

"Andrew, where are we?" Jim asked quietly, finally willing to accept, somewhat, that things had changed. 

Andrew looked up, knowing which direction to look, but he couldn't see it from here. "Heaven is just over there." he said, pointing forward and right. 

Jim nodded, accepting that, his questions answered for the moment. 

Ethan brought his piece to an end, listening, eyes closed, as the birds that had been singing along with his music concluded their part, too. Eventually he lifted his fingers from the keys. 

When he opened his eyes, he looked right to the two sitting on the edge of the clearing, specifically at Jim Mellor. "You're early, Jim." he said bluntly. 

Andrew stifled his amusement. 'I guess one thing about being an Archangel is that it's looked upon more leniently when you're being downright blunt.' 

Ethan glanced momentarily at Andrew as the Angel of Death helped his charge stand up. 

Andrew, for his part, ignored the I-caught-that-! look, and continued with his charge to the piano. 

"Jim, you're not suppose to be here, between Heaven and the world, yet." Ethan said. "You're suppose to be composing the music that will change the world." 

"Me? Change the world?" 

"Everyone changes the world when he influences even one soul." 

"God wants you to come be with Him, Jim, but not yet." Andrew said, trying to rephrase what Ethan was trying to say. "He knows there are things that you still need to do on Earth. There's music that still needs to be written that won't be written if you're not there to write it!" 

"Ethan was doing that pretty well himself." Jim said, trying to excuse himself. 

"I'm the Archangel of Music, Jim. I occasionally pass along the music to those who write it. God's got music to be written, and He wants you to write it. He's already given you a couple miracles so that you'll be able to do that. While you've been here, He's sent angels with a miracle to heal the wounds of your body, and He's been healing your soul at the same time!" Ethan slid off the piano bench, and gestured for Jim to take his place. "Part of that healing is to begin composition. Right here, right now." 

"I-I'm not sure about that." 

Andrew leaned forward from his place standing in the crook of the piano. "You don't have to be sure, Jim," he said with an intensity that surprised even himself, "you just have to feel the music in your heart, and let it express its self!" 

Jim's fingers, now on the keyboard, remained still, unwilling to move over the keys. 

Andrew looked up as a figure approached him, and smiled. Monica looked beautiful in a light summer dress, and the light of God's love glowing about her only made her look all the more... Heavenly. 

Monica returned his smile. 

"Jim, I believe you know Monica." Andrew said. 

"Monica!" 

"I'm an Angel, Jim; and so are Ethan and Andrew." she said, finishing with a nod in the direction of the other angels. 

"Angels. So I really am next door to Heaven." 

"Very close." Monica confirmed. 

"Ethan really is the Archangel of Music, and Andrew..." 

"Andrew is an Angel of Death. He was sent to be with you in your death. But your link to life never really was severed, Jim. See, God knows that your suicide attempt wasn't your fault, He knows that Evil was the real cause. You aren't to blame. He loves you so much, James William Ezra Thyson Mellor the Third." She paused, smiling, "Someday, He wants you to come Home, but today isn't the day. There were angels sent with a miracle to heal your body while you came here to heal your soul. Soon, it'll be time to return, but you'll return with the knowledge of God's love for you, and music, God's music, restored to your soul." 

"Will I still be blind, and deaf?" 

Monica placed a hand on his arm, squeezed it reassuringly. "Beethoven was also deaf, and his were some of the greatest musical compositions ever known." 

Jim barely took note of what Monica had just said, his mind dwelling on something she'd said earlier. "God loves me." 

"Very much." 

A small smile bent the left corner of his mouth as he placed his hands back on the keyboard, and cautiously played a few chords. 

Behind him, out of sight and sound of those at the piano, an Angel of Death slapped an Archangel on the shoulder.   
  


Two figures appeared in the small, tiled bathroom in the home of Jim Mellor. 

Monica looked about her, approving of the shining cleanliness of the room. "I see Irene's hand in this." she commented. 

"I didn't touch a thing!" Irene, declared. 

Jim shook off the stare he'd been directing at the Asian-looking woman, and turned his gaze to the face, his face--his head cradled in her lap. 

"Welcome back, Jim." Irene said. 

Jim looked back at her, and at Carl, still holding his--body's wrists. "You're, both, angels?" 

"We are." 

Jim looked about him, seeing the room for the first, and last time. 

"Jim, it's time." Andrew said, feeling a bit odd. Usually, he meant that it was time to go Home, but for Jim, it was time to return to his body. 

Jim turned, a bit surprised, and noticed that Andrew and Ethan had come back, too. He crouched down by his body, took one of his own hands from Carl, and examined the wrist. There was no sign of the deep wound he'd inflicted there. "Amazing..." he muttered to himself. 

"Amazing grace!" Irene echoed. 

He smiled to himself, then stood up, looking down at his pale form. "Monica?" 

"What is it, Jim?" she asked, coming to him and laying a hand gently on his arm. 

"Tell me that again." 

"Tell you what?" 

"What you told me back there, the message from God." 

"Ah. God loves you, Jim Mellor, very much!!" There was no doubt about that, she could feel God's love for this man, as clearly as he could, as was evident in his smile. 

"I just wanted to hear it one more time." he said, and settled down onto the floor, moving carefully back into his body, and laying down. 

Irene whispered something in his ear, knowing his physical ears couldn't hear it, but the ears of his soul could, ears that had been deaf a long time to what God wanted him to hear. 

Jim Mellor groaned, and carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position. He felt stiff and cold. 

"Why didn't I get up and go to bed?" he mumbled to himself. Gradually, the memory of where he'd been and what had happened came back to him, and he rubbed an aching ear. Instantly, he pushed the thought of the aching ear from his mind, and felt a wrist, then the other. There should have been evidence there of what he'd done earlier, but he felt no trace of his suicide attempt. 

Attempt. That's all it had been. God had sent angels with miracles of healing, and he'd been told that it wasn't his fault... 

He turned swiftly left and right, as if to look for the 5 angels he knew should be there, who'd been there just moments ago, and encountered, instead, a furry muzzle and wet kisses being slobbered on his cheek. 

"Aungell!!!" he couldn't help laughing as he hugged his faithful guide dog. Aungell wasn't a dog given to slobbering or any other disorderly conduct, but in her happiness to see her person, all holds were barred. 

"Come on, girl. This is something I haven't done for a while, and I bet you've missed it." 

He made his way to the piano, sat down, and gently caressing the keys, he felt inspiration reach down from a source greater than his own as music filled his soul. 'Okay, so it's improvisation." he thought to himself. 'But would I want to face God one day if I threw His gift away?' 

With that, he started with scales, and a tune started coming out, eventually forming a recognizable hymn. 

Tess, standing near the piano with her angel colleagues, unseen to human eyes, begun humming to the tune coming from the piano. She gestured for them to follow, humming all the way to the door. 

Aungell followed, and woofed a goodbye to the angels, as Tess let the words to the hymn of praise resound, along with the piano: Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound! 

"What did you tell him, back there?" Monica whispered to Irene as she followed Tess and the others. 

Irene smiled, her eyes sparkling at the secret. "I told him that God loves him." 

"That's not all you told him!" Carl responded. 

Irene chuckled softly to herself as she pulled the white scarf loose from her hair, and tossed it up into the air. Overhead, the scarf turned into a dove, cooing softly as it flew on by.   
  



End file.
